


There was a boy

by orphan_account



Series: Nature Boy [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF!Stiles, F/M, Gen, Set about a year after the alpha pack leaves with their tails between their legs, The hunters should have done their research
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-10-19
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two middle-aged men passed through a corridor filled with steel-enforced cages. Accustomed to the low level of disorientation caused by the humidifier filled with water and essential monkshood oil, they held themselves upright and alert as they looked in on the monsters occupying several of the cages, each of them in varying degrees of respiratory distress. Some fought to stay seated, others sprawled pathetically along the dingy cinder block flooring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There was a boy

**Author's Note:**

> This fic started because last night at the _Pentatonix_ concert (which was _amazing_ , by the way), they performed a remix of _Nature Boy_ , and then I couldn't get it out of my head. What do I do these days when songs are stuck in my head?
> 
> I write about Stiles.

Two middle-aged men passed through a corridor filled with steel-enforced cages. Accustomed to the low level of disorientation caused by the humidifier filled with water and essential monkshood oil, they held themselves upright and alert as they looked in on the monsters occupying several of the cages, each of them in varying degrees of respiratory distress. Some fought to stay seated, others sprawled pathetically along the dingy cinder block flooring.

One remained standing, tall and defiant to the last, as though it could overcome the effects of the poison in its system through sheer force of will. Its eyes, unlike the golden eyes of the others, glowed a feral crimson.

Emboldened by the protection offered by the thick metal separating them from what would otherwise be an almost insurmountable threat, one man rapped his knuckles against the red-eyed abomination’s prison. “Not so tough now, are you? Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Wolf, huh? Not I.”

Instead of recoiling at the ferocious snarl the thing let out, he threw his graying head back and laughed. He could hardly wait until his leader came back later that night, when they would cut these creatures in half and send them out to the neighboring packs. It had been too long since hunters had sent out a message to the mongrels in California, especially since the only survivors of the last one seemed to have an incredibly short memory. What gave them the right to creep back into Beacon Hills and start spreading their disease less than a decade after it had almost been eradicated from this town?

Obviously the lesson hadn’t sunk in deep enough the last time.

This time? They would destroy the Hale Pack once and for all.

To the left, one of the other beasts hacked out what might have been a laugh, were its lips not cracked and its airways not dried and brittle from days of exposure. “You pricks really need,” it paused to cough some more, the force of it rocking its slender frame before continuing, “to come up with some new material.” There were some rattling breaths, and then, “We’ve heard much better back home.”

How dare the little freak mock him? Furious, he removed the rifle he had been carrying easily against his shoulder and cracked the thing on its golden head. “You shut your mouth. Did I ever say you could talk? Did I? Maybe I should deal with you right now. Boss wants your bodies to be fresh when we deliver them to the others, but that’s nothing a little ice won’t be able to help.”

“And you think,” _hack, wheeze, gasp_ , “ _we’re_ the monsters?”

“I know you are. Mindless beasts, every last one of you. You should be thanking us. In a few hours, we’re going to put you out of your misery.”

It heaved a labored breath, then licked its lips in a vain attempt to bring moisture back to the cracked and bloody flesh. “You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t,” another shuddering inhale, “quite see it your way.”

The hunter leaned closer to the cage, hissing, “I think you’ll find that the only thing I _have_ to do is decide whether or not I need to knock you unconscious or pop you on the mouth. Either will work, as long as it shuts you up.”

Everyone in the room could hear the thing working its way up to another response, but one of the others got there first. “Isaac, for the love of everything holy, just keep your mouth shut.” There was a pause, the second thing’s mouth working, fighting against the parched quality of its mouth. “Watching you get your teeth knocked in doesn’t exactly sound like the highlight of our stay.”

For the first time, the other hunter spoke up, leering. “Aww, does the little she-wolf care about her mate?” A dark growl from another cage further down brought a chuckle out of both men. They had known from the way the biggest beta protected this one that the two of them were mates, and the purposeful confusion was meant to get a rise out it, since out of all the creatures captured, it had been the calmest, the hardest to rattle.

“Hey there, Babe. How you doin’?” The first hunter grimaced. It was always disconcerting when the beasts they hunted tried to make pop-culture references, as though they actually thought they were human.

The growling stopped, replaced by a soft, “I’m fine, Erica. You?”

A raspy laugh was followed by a dry, “I’ve been better.”

Fed up with being ignored, the second hunter injected, “So sorry. Do our accommodations not meet with your high standards? Would you prefer a hovel somewhere? Or maybe a nice cave?”

“That’s alright,” the she-wolf said, striving to sound casual. “Although, if you’re offering to make me more comfortable, there is one thing you could do.”

The second hunter rolled his eyes, though he could admit to himself he appreciated this one’s spunk. It had been a nightmare trying to bring it down, flying into a rage after its mate was subdued trying to cover its back. There was a reason the two of them were on opposite sides of the room. “Like what? Fluff your pillow? Wash your hair? Throw you a bone?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of, ‘Go to hell.’”

“Erica.” That was all it took for the she-wolf to stop talking, slight smirk falling from its face.

“Oh. The alpha speaks. You know,” the first hunter said conversationally, “I almost feel bad for you. You were just too stupid to stay away. You should have known we would come for you eventually. After all, you’ve just been living on borrowed time.”

“Funny. I think that should be my line.”

All the lights snapped off, plunging the room into darkness, save for the luminescent eyes peering at the hunters, both craning their necks in search of the voice they’d heard from above. A dull _thud_ sounded, then there was a whooshing noise and a loud _crack_ , followed by a pained cry.

The men reached for their weapons, one digging out a dagger, the other swinging his rifle out toward the area from which the first hit had come down on his shoulder. He got another hit to the face for his troubles, blood coming rapidly up and and out through his nose, which he knew instinctively was broken. The hunter tried to aim for the general vicinity of his attacker’s head, but the next noise that rang throughout the room was the destruction of the humidifier, the bludgeoning it received leaving it sparking and sputtering as it died a quick and painful death.

Then the sound of a hard surface making contact with another being’s skull, and of a body falling to the unforgiving cinder block made the remaining hunter call out, “Pritchard? Come on, Pritchard, say something. You can’t -”

Terror took him over as his gun was knocked out of his hands, and then some sort of rod was brought up against his neck, tilting his head back and choking him even as his body was trapped against the front of another. “Your buddy won’t be saying anything for a while, I’m not sorry to say. And if I’m not mistaken, in about a minute, neither will you. Suffocation sucks, doesn’t it?” The rod was jerked back, adding extra pressure to his throat, crushing his airway. “Probably should have thought about that before you tried to do it to my pack.” He couldn’t help the surprised gurgle that he let out at the words. They had been certain there were only five. Had they missed one of them? Or...? “That’s right. You only thought you got the whole pack. You forgot about one thing, though. You may hate werewolves, but there are plenty of humans out there who don’t. Now, you have about thirty seconds before you pass out, so you’re going to listen to me, and then when you wake up, you’re going to deliver a message to your leader. He likes those, doesn’t he? Messages? Well, he should love this. You tell him that the Hale Pack is under my protection, and that no matter what you do, I will _always_ come for them, and you will _always_ lose.”

He had about five seconds of agonizing, fear-filled silence before he lost his grip on the waking world, and then he knew no more.


End file.
